


Just A Taste

by NegansOtherWife



Series: Cherry Pie [1]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Cheating, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Horny Teenagers, Secret Relationship, Smut, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Teenage Drama, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 21:11:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18535564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NegansOtherWife/pseuds/NegansOtherWife
Summary: Carl and the (teenage) reader find themselves in a precarious situation. Alexandria AU.





	1. A Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> a couple of things:  
> 1) yes, i know. i should be focusing on updating my other stories. i'm so twitchy, i can't help it.  
> 2) question. is it weird to write a carl story? i'm only 22 so it's not weird, right? i've been crushing on him since middle school.  
> 3) this story is inspired by 'waitress' the musical. would totes recommend.  
> 4) HALLELUJIAH! this is pre-written.  
> enjoy. x

“ _She was a waitress at a shop I used to frequent quite a lot_ ,” You hummed below your breath, crimping the edges of the pie crust. “ _Nice teeth and small hands, and snuck me goodies I couldn’t afford then…_ ”

The cool air from the open kitchen window wafted the smell of cinnamon and the buttery crust from the pies baking in the oven around the room. You smiled slightly at the familiar scent, lost in distant memories. Good memories. 

“ _But she was sweet, too…_ ” You sucked your finger clean of the cherry compote, taking a step back and considering the uneven edges of the pie crust as the doorbell rang. “ _…reminds me of you._ ”

“Y/N?”

“In the kitchen,” You called out, carefully pouring the filling into the pie. 

“Something smells really good in here,” Maggie grinned, leaning against the door frame as she watched you bustle around the kitchen. 

“Cherry pies this week,” You grinned, stepping forward to hug her. “Daryl found an overrun farm, so I figured I’d make some pies and pass them out to everyone when they’ve cooled.”

“I swear, Y/N, ever since we found you we’ve all gained ten pounds. Good.” She patted her stomach which was rounded with her and Glenn’s twin girls. “It makes me less self-conscious.”

“Oh, stop.” You chided, reaching for the oven mitt and pulling out two pies. “You’re glowing, and pregnancy looks great on you. Did you just stop by for a visit?”

After only two months at Alexandria, you’d assimilated seamlessly and considered the community home. Everyone was so forthcoming and had welcomed you with open arms. Mostly, you thought it was because you were eighteen and alone. Maggie had taken a particular liking to you and often visited the small cottage you shared with Enid and several other orphaned girls your age. 

“I was looking for Enid.” She admitted, stealing a cherry when your back was turned. “Rick needs someone to watch Judith while he’s on duty; I’d do it, but I’m a little tired.”

“Enid went out, but I could do it,” You shrugged, looking around the kitchen that seemed filled to the brim with pies. “I’ll even bring a pie.”

“Really?” Her eyes glimmered with hope, and you nodded, pleased that you could lend a hand where needed. “They live on Cherry Lane, last house on the left.”

“How fitting,” You remarked.


	2. Cherry Pie, Oh My!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can twist it into sugar, butter covered pieces  
> Never mind what's underneath it, I have done it before  
> It's amazing what baking can do...

The walk to Rick’s house is short, and you find it without any hassle. It’s nestled under an Oak tree, the perfect picture of suburbia complete with a white picket fence and porch swing. You undid the fence latch, closing it behind you and carefully maneuvering the sidewalk chalk and other toys strewn across the lawn as you made your way to the front door.

Before you knocked, you took the time to straighten your sundress — a blue gingham pattern with thin straps knotted at your left hip. Passing the cherry pie between hands, you brushed some flour off the skirt before knocking. 

It only took a handful of seconds before the sound of the door handle turning reached your ears, and you looked up, meeting Rick’s blue eyes with a smile. 

“Hi, Mr. Grimes. I’m—”

“Y/N," He finished, fully opening the door. “You made those chocolate chip cookies for the barbecue last week.”

“Yeah, that was me,” You nodded, growing more confident as it came apparent that he held some idea of who you were. “Um, Maggie came by looking for Enid. She said you needed someone to watch Judith and I volunteered, also brought a pie for you.”

“You sure?” He regarded you curiously. “Judith doesn’t take well to strangers, at least lately.”

“I can give it a shot, right? If not, at least you get a pie out of the whole thing.” You bargained, wanting to try at least before you gave up.

He stood aside to let you in, and you released the breath you’d been holding. Rick Grimes could be intimidating without even trying. He called for Judith as you gazed around the spacious kitchen. It was home-y, the refrigerator adorned with drawings from Judith and polaroids of various people from Alexandria.

“Jude, this is Y/N.” Rick introduced, crouching to her level. “She made those cookies last week. Remember that?”

Carefully you arranged your features into a gentle smile, hoping that you could put the three-year-old at ease. Judith wore the cutest dress that complimented the yellow ribbons in her curly blonde hair, and in her hand, she firmly grasped a stuffed giraffe by its long neck. 

“Hi, Judith. I made a pie for you, do you wan’a see?” You held out your hands, and she hesitated a moment before holding her arms out, allowing you to pick her up. “It’s cherry, see?”

You settled her onto your hip with a slight huff; she was a lot heavier than she looked.

“I like cherries,” She softly remarked in your ear, her small hands slipping around your neck as she studied the pie. 

“That went better than I expected,” Rick commented, looking pleased.

“They say the way to a toddlers heart is her stomach.”

He cracked a smile, going for his gun belt hung in the hallway. “If I’m not home first, it’ll be Carl, Y/N, but that won't be too late. Michonne’s gone till tomorrow. Help yourself to the food in the fridge; plates are in that cabinet.”

“Sure, Mr. Grimes.”

He paused, shrugging on his jacket. “You can call me, Rick.”

“Old habits die hard I guess. My dad used to say it was disrespectful to call adults by their first names,” You admitted, depositing Judith on the counter as your arms started to go numb from her weight. 

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

You busied yourself with getting a plate and knife so you could cut Judith a slice of pie, seeing as she’d gotten excited and dug her small fist into the pan. 

“Same age as Carl,” He commented distractedly, going for the door when someone else knocked.

“You ain’t ready yet?” Daryl came trudging through the doorway, his crossbow in hand. 

“Needed a babysitter,” Rick answered.

“Hey, Asskicker.” Daryl went to bump fists with Judith until he realized they were both sticky and coated in the pie. He gave a little nod in your direction, asking, “You made more of those?”

“Yep.” Going for your bag, you riffled around in it before pulling out the foiled wrapped treats. “However, a little birdie told me that cherry cookies are your favorite.” You said, referring to Carol. 

“That bird needs to mind her damn business.” He snatched them from your hand with a grunt. “S’good, thanks.”

Transferring a slice of pie onto a plate, you placed it beside Judith and handed her a fork. She munched on it happily while you stood close to make sure she wouldn’t topple off the counter. 

“Mhmm, yummy.” You mimed, pretending to take a bite of pie that she offered.

“Where’s Carl? He left already?” Daryl mumbled around a mouthful, watching as Rick shoved his boots on and laced them up. 

Heavy footsteps reverberated against the stairs and Carl came down in a hurry, his head tipped forward. You couldn’t see his face, he wore his sheriff’s hat even indoors it seemed, but you could imagine his expression; eyes like his father’s only less intense and more rounded with compassion you admired. You’d only had a handful of short conversations, mostly in passing when he’d come by the house to collect Enid. Still, you were on a friendly basis. 

“Hi, Carl.” You waved, one hand now around Judith’s waist to keep her steady. “Do you want a taste of my pie?”

You were so busy attempting to wipe Judith’s sticky fingers that you didn’t notice the moment she pitched forward, fisting the fabric of your dress for stability. The fabric bunched, baring a good portion of the swell of your breast and the same time that happened; Carl looked up in response to your question. His eyes immediately fell to your exposed breast, and he stumbled, losing concentration and running headfirst into the doorway. 

You looked up, startled and concerned. 

“You okay?” You asked, hoisting a now spotless Judith onto your hip and unknowingly shifting your dress back into place. “Want me to get you some ice?”

“I’m fine, just tripped on my laces.” Carl cleared his throat, turning to his father so that he altogether avoided your gaze and you couldn’t see his reddened face. “I got’a go meet Enid.” He addressed his father. 

Rick coughed, covering up a laugh before he said, “Don’t be gone too long. Y/N’s watching Judith.”

Carl left quickly after that, barely sparing a glance in your direction when you called out goodbye. 

Was there something on your face?

You brushed at your mouth for crumbs, subtly cupping your hand and sniffing your breath in passing.

“To be young again,” Daryl smirked. You missed the brief smile on his face before he straightened, nudging Rick as he passed. “Shelia McCarthy, eighth grade.”

Rick huffed a laugh, stepping forward to place a kiss on Judith’s head before following Daryl out the door. Left alone, you gazed around the kitchen, unsure of what to do with a toddler practically overflowing with energy. 

Maybe the pie hadn’t been that good of an idea. 

Absentmindedly, you brushed some crumbs into the sink, recalling Carl’s frankly rude attitude towards you. You’d considered yourselves on good terms with him through Enid, but maybe that wasn’t the case.

“Cherries!”

The sharp tug to a stray strand of your hair pulled you abruptly from your thoughts. Judith’s grubby hands had caught some of your baby hairs, and she pulled them again, delighting in your wince. 

“That’s right, Judy! Cherries,” You cooed, realizing that the entirety of her mouth was stained red from the pie. Amused, you tickled her feet until she gave another full-bellied laugh and thankfully, released your hair. “Wan’a play with your chalk?”


	3. It Only Takes A Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes one bite is more than enough,  
> To know you want more of the thing you just got a taste of

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see ya'll in part two! x

It didn’t take long for your mind to become distracted and the more you gave yourself over to Judith’s simple world of coloring, biking, and cravings of apple juice; the easier it was to push Carl’s weird behavior out of your thoughts.

The cement walkway was now adorned with you and Judith’s artwork, a whole slew of sketches. Judith had taken you through a grand tour of it all, and you nodded and ahh'ed in all the right places as she showed you the scribbles of Auntie Maggie, Uncle Daryl, and a couple of others.

“ _It only takes a taste when it’s something special, it only takes a taste when you know it’s good…_ ” As you colored, you sang softly, keeping a careful eye on Judith who’d begun to crash from her sugar high. She seemed to be fighting it, but you knew it was only a matter of time. “ _Sometimes one bite is more than enough, to know you want more of the thing you just got a taste of—_ ”

The gate door slamming against the fence called for your attention. It hadn’t even been an hour but Carl’s home, storming up the walkway. He pays neither you nor Judith any attention, kicking the front door shut after practically wrenching it open.

“Carl's mean.” Judith tattled.

“I agree, Judy.”

You watched the door, half expecting him to come marching out any second now and apologize to at least Judith. Instead, the door remained closed, and you continued to color until Judith’s eyes began to droop.

“Nap time, I think.”

You scooped her up and she went easily enough, tucking her head under your chin as you wandered upstairs to her room at the end of the hallway. Tucking her stuffed giraffe under her arm, you closed the curtains to block out the sunlight and placed a kiss on her head in passing.

In the hallway, your eyes fell to Carl’s door.

While he’d brushed you off earlier, you hated to see someone so upset. For Carl to ignore his little sister, you knew that something significant must have happened. 

Your thoughts shifted quickly, recalling that day in the woods that Daryl had found you; you'd been harsh with your words and untrusting even though you were so lonely and hurting on the inside. Despite the facade, you wanted someone to fight for you. Daryl had ended up hauling you over his shoulder, but the message was more or less the same. 

You don't leave someone to hurt all by themselves.

Mind made up, you hurried downstairs, slicing a piece of pie and plating it. You carried it upstairs, lingering by Carl's door.

Hesitantly, you knocked.

“Carl?” You called quietly, hoping you wouldn’t wake Judith. “Do you want some of my cherry pie? It's good.”

Drawing in a deep breath, you pushed on the partially open door. Carl laid on his bed; a hand tucked behind his head, the other toying with a baseball.

“I’m not in the mood for any fucking pie.” He murmured, keeping his eyes trained on the ceiling. When you didn’t move, he turned his head to study your fidgeting form by the door. He breathed real heavy and slow through his nose, almost like it pained him to apologize. “I didn’t mean that.”

“S’okay.”

You stepped further into the room, closing the door with your foot and when he didn’t protest, you took a seat on the side of his bed near his hip.

“I noticed you were upset and I thought I’d come see if you were okay after I put Judith down for her nap.” You showed him the plate. “It’s hard not to smile when you’ve got something sweet on your tongue.”

He gave you a long, hard look as if questioning your authenticity. “Are you doing that on purpose?”

“What?” You blinked.

“Saying things like that to tease me.”

“Um…” You were truly at a loss for words, playing back everything you'd said in the last two hours. You came up empty. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He sat up abruptly, bringing your faces just centimeters away from each other in the process. You think it’s inappropriate to be this close, close enough to tell that the outer edges of his irises are a light blue that fade into a textured green. They vaguely remind you of the sea glass you used to find at the beach when you were a child.

Carl matched your staring with his own, and if you thought you were meant to be the one ashamed, it was him. He studied the slope of your brow, the delicate features of your nose and the scattered freckles on your face before making up his mind.

“Give me a bite. One bite,” He elaborated, “and then you leave me alone.”

“One bite and you tell me what’s bothering you,” You bargained.

He relented with a roll of his eyes, opening his mouth so that you could carefully feed him a small bite of the pie. He chewed a couple of bites thoughtfully, the edges of his mouth curling upward into a reluctant grin.

“Damn it, you’re right.” He sighed.

Unable to help yourself, you teased, “I told you so. Now tell me what’s bothering you.”

His smile completely dropped, and you instantly chastised yourself for being so pushy. You briefly considered the idea of dropping the subject and leaving. Maybe some things were better left unsaid, and you certainly had things that you never wanted to speak into the universe.

“I caught Enid with Ron down by the south fence. I can’t prove anything, but I just now. My mother, she—” He stopped himself, looking down and picking at his bedspread. “I just know the look of someone being unfaithful, okay?”

“Okay.”

Maybe it’s the image of ‘suburban heaven’ that Alexandria emitted, but you’d almost forgotten that there were still problems hidden beneath the layer of perfection. It only had to be peeled back to be seen, all fleshy and raw.

The south fence, you’d quickly been informed, was where most of Alexandria’s teenagers went to fool around. Cheating wasn’t an entirely wrong assumption, and Carl seemed so sure that you found yourself easily trusting his judgment.

“More pie?”

“Yeah.” His laugh sounded strained, but he leaned forward for another bite.

You stabbed a piece of the pie, chewing as you considered how someone your age was familiar with the ongoings of infidelity. Probably his parents.Though, Rick didn’t seem like the type to cheat.

“How long have you guys been dating?” You asked, one part curiosity, the other part to size up his situation. 

“Around two years.”

“Is this the first time…”

“Probably not,” He admitted carefully.

“My mama used to say that you could tell a lot from just a taste.” Licking your lips, you carefully considered your next words. “Mostly, she meant pies but I took it to heart with people. You can tell a lot about a person’s character when they let their guard down in a moment.”

“Really?” He seemed to be carefully considering your words, peeking through the curtain of his hair to appraise your sincerity. “You bake pies a lot? Before?”

“With my mom, yeah. I guess it’s my solution for everything.” You offered him the last bite, watching some crumbs catch on the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got a little something, right there.”

You gather them with the tip of your finger, popping it into your mouth without a second thought. It’s somehow sweeter and slightly different than the taste of the pie already dancing across your tongue. Drunk off the feeling, you said the first thing that came to your mind: “That tastes good.”

“Y/N…” It’s only your name, but the way he spoke it made you meet his gaze.

A warning.

Carl’s hand twitched in your direction, tentatively reaching forward to cup your waist. You nodded encouragingly, leaning closer until the edges of his face blurred and the tip of your nose grazed his cheek.

Lips brushing, heavy pants and hands wandering  _—_ you gave in to the moment. His lips are impossibly soft against your own, like velvet and silk. A moan of approval slipped from your lips. He seemed to like the noise, growing emboldened and fisting the material of your dress so that it bunched along your hips. Your hands entangled in his hair, pulling his mouth harder against yours as your tongues danced.

The tension in the room finally revealed itself, giving up the coy facade in favor of emitting a pulsing heat that settled in your groin.

_Just a taste. Just a taste. Just a taste._

The repeated mantra fell upon deaf ears as you allowed Carl to pull you onto his lap so that you straddled him. The rough denim of his jeans is a welcomed relief and an aggravating tease tied with a bow. The material of your dress gathered around your waist, the zipper of his jeans pressing between your legs. He’s Enid’s boyfriend, but it’s only a taste, and it can’t hurt if she’s doing it to with some other guy.

The ignorance settled gradually on your skin like freshly fallen snow, draping you heavy in seconds as it rapidly collected.

“Oh, god.” You drew in a ragged breath, lungs burning and chest heaving. “Carl, that feels good.”

His lips traveled to the column of your throat, harshly sucking on your pulse point while his hands moved to your waist, clutching and stroking. You complied quickly enough, pressing down against the bulge in his jeans. It drew a soft groan from his lips and it’s like oil to the fire that sits low in your belly. You shifted forward again, applying more pressure. Carl drew in a gasp, hands flying to the bow at your waist that held your dress together.

“Carl?” The door creaked, startling you both and you found yourself in a heap beside his bed. Judith stood at the doorway, rubbing her eyes and yawning. "I'm thirsty," She said. 

“Shit.” You gathered yourself as best as you could, shifting your dress back into place as you stood. “I should go.”

Carl blinked blearily, jolting upright and sweeping Judith onto his hip.

“Yeah, that’s probably best.”

He seemed to want to say more, but with Judith's presence, he refrained. Instead, giving you a shaky smile in replace of — _something_.

“Bye, Cherry.” Judith gave a little wave, completely oblivious. 

You loved her for that. She probably wouldn’t judge you for what she’d just walked in on.

Probably.

It’s only on the way home that you allowed yourself to breath, stopping in the middle of the road to touch your still tingling lips. The way he’d touched you. The feeling of his bare skin against your own and his soft groan in your ear had been playing on repeat this entire time. 

One taste and it’d been more than enough to experience something you hadn’t known you’d needed. It’d felt like you’d briefly escaped the room you’d been in, escaped the suffering and pain of your past. It was intoxicating, made you lose your inhibition. It couldn’t have been more than a minute of fumbling and kisses, but it’s done and out in the universe. You can’t take it back. 

Your heart plummeted suddenly, a nervous feeling twisting in your gut as you realized that just one little taste had left you craving more.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think. comments are as sweet as pie and i love a kudo! xx


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